


Far Too Young To Die: Part Two

by delicateloser



Series: Far Too Young To Die [2]
Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, F/M, M/M, Multi, Violence, a bit of homophobia in a few chapters, major character deaths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-06-18 03:23:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15476589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delicateloser/pseuds/delicateloser
Summary: after winning the 27th annual hunger games, Eddie and Richie find themselves in a position that may be even more difficult.





	1. save my heart for last

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to my gf, @imrichie on tumblr, because shes my number one fan and im love her!!!!

**E** ddie's heart was pounding hard in his chest, and he was flinching with every camera flashing in his face, trying to hold tight to Richie's hand. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion since they'd woken up on the aircraft.  
  
" _What the_ fuck _were you thinking?!_ " Beverly's words rang in his ears.  
  
He was thinking he wanted to live. He wanted Richie to live -- he wanted all of his friends to live, but that plan had already gone to shit. He took the only option he could think of to keep the two of them safe.  
  
And now they would face whatever consequences President Wise has in store for them.  
  
He and Richie were separated, forcefully, and Eddie looked for him desperately the moment he didn't feel his hand wrapped around his own.  
  
"Richie!" He screamed out over the noisiness of the crowd, and he could hear someone speaking to him faintly. He came back into focus to find Ben standing in front of him, holding Eddie's arms to his sides.  
  
"Are you okay?" Ben was asking, and his voice sounded so distant. Eddie wasn't sure.  
  
"Where is Richie going?" He asked, and Ben suddenly smiled in a reassuring sort of way.  
  
"To eat, shower, rest," he explained. "You'll see each other first thing in the morning." He was using such a calm, soft voice. Eddie felt silly for getting so scared. He just didn't want to have to be away from him again.  
  
The panic and fear from the games had yet to fade away in his mind, and he still felt this impulsive obligation to protect Richie at all costs. So how could he do that when they weren't together?  
  
After having eaten and showered, Eddie couldn’t help but feel like it was someone else he was looking at in the mirror. His usually pale skin was tanned, his hair lightened, all from the time spent under the sun in the arena. The bags under his eyes worse than they had ever been, and he’d lost weight from the lack of proper nourishment.  
  
He dressed in warm pajamas before climbing into bed, but Eddie couldn't stop his heart from hammering so hard in his chest. He started at the ceiling with a concerned focus. As if any moment it could turn out that he was simply living in another level in the games.  
  
Or maybe the reality of it was even worse. Here he was, safe and fed and comfortable, while the twenty-two other children who had stayed in this hotel previously alongside them were all dead. Some by his own hand. He choked back a sob, pulling the pillow over his face to calm down.  
  
A soft rapping on the window nearly had him jumping out of his skin. He dropped the pillow to stare in confusion at the fake image he had set to be displayed outside his windows, reaching for the remote at his bedside; on edge when he hit the power button. The ocean view faded away into the bright lights of the city that were _really_ outside his window — and Richie, eight stories off of the ground, clinging to one of the windows. He flashed Eddie a goofy smile.  
  
"Jesus!" Eddie cried, leaping from the bed to pull open the window. He took Richie's arm, to begin tugging him inside, his voice a harsh whisper. "What the fuck are you doing??"  
  
"Well I didn't have the keycard for the eighth floor-"  
  
"No, why are you here at all?!" Eddie asked, not wanting them to get into trouble if anyone were to find out. “And why would you scale a fucking building?!”  
  
"I wanted to see you." Richie replied softly, "I missed you." Eddie's angry expression faltered, his heart skipping a beat in his chest.  
  
"You- you could have died, Rich." He said, not letting himself be swayed by his pretty words.  
  
"You're worth it baby." Richie took his hand, smiling warmly. Eddie snorted with a blush, pausing to look away and consider what he said, and knowing there was no deterring Richie here. And, well. He was kind of being swayed after all.  
  
"Do you ever stop flirting..?" He wondered, looking at Richie's hand in a weak attempt to avoid eye contact, and playing absently with his fingers.  
  
"Nope," Richie smirked. Eddie found himself looking back up anyway, and smiling as well. When Richie leaned down to kiss him, he pressed up onto his toes to meet his lips halfway.  
  
They lay next to each other on his bed, Richie on his side, and Eddie on his back. The moment he was reunited with Eddie, Richie had become exhausted. After the games, he couldn’t sleep without Eddie by his side. Eddie clicked the power on the remote to surround them once again in the soothing sounds of the ocean. Blocking out the city, and erasing the games from their minds, even if for only a little while.  
  
Eddie eventually rolled onto his own side toward a very sleepy Richie, and he felt his face grow warm. This had all been so backwards. He'd fallen for someone who he'd never even gone on a date with, and even still, he felt like Richie knew everything important there was to know about him.  
  
He leaned forward to press more eager kisses to his lips, and Richie laughed tiredly. "How do you have so much energy?" He muttered.  
  
Eddie knew it was anxiety keeping him from sleeping properly. But he didn't answer, instead continuing to kiss along the other's jaw and neck gently. He didn’t know what he was doing, really, beyond following his instincts. Richie hummed with approval, letting him know he was doing something right. But when the other eventually began to doze off, Eddie pulled back again, pouting.  
  
"Richie?" He muttered, already feeling further from him. He tried to press himself closer, rolling over to pull Richie's arms around him, his back pressed to Richie’s front. The grip tightened, and Eddie tried to close his own eyes, willing his heartbeat to slow down.

 

* * *

  
  
" **O** kay, you're both on in five. Get ready, because this interview is going to reflect a _lot_ on how the Capitol handles this situation." Ben was talking very quickly, and Eddie tried to keep up.  
  
"You two almost killed yourselves for.. well, love, to put it simply. So you need to act like-“  
  
"Got it, got it," Richie said, "we just have to show them how _sickeningly in love_ we are. Right, pumpkin?" He snaked his arms around Eddie beside him. And while the make up artist had applied blush, it was nothing compared to the way Eddie’s cheeks turned pink from embarrassment.  
  
"We don't have to lay it on that thick." He muttered, his mind briefly straying to his mother, and his heart palpitations returning. Richie looked a little confused. And maybe hurt. "No, I- I have feelings, Richie. I just don't want to seem over the top." Eddie explained, watching Richie’s shoulder’s relax, and adding, “I can’t be convincing over the top. I’m a really bad liar.”  
  
“Then I’ll do most of the talking, Eddie my love.” Richie assured him. Eddie tried to feel relieved, because Richie did know how to talk.  
  
But he could hear Caesar Flickerman addressing the audience, and he felt even more sick when a stagehand passed him muttering something about whether the other tributes would be allowed to be mentioned, his mind flashing immediately to Stan. Then Mike. Bill, too. The last time he was on this stage, they were alive, doing interviews themselves.  
  
"Wait, I can't do this," Eddie whispered, lightheaded.  
  
"What?" Richie stage-whispered back, eying him in confusion.  
  
"I can't be back here again," Eddie looked up at him even while he could feel tears beginning to burn in his eyes. Immediately Richie's arms were around him, his embrace feeling warm and comforting. He wanted to lean his entire being into it.  
  
"Hey, it's going to be okay," Richie was saying in his ear, and Eddie tried to focus on the soothing quality of his voice. "Everything is going to be fine, baby. I've got you."  
  
"Don't let go," Eddie ordered.  
  
"Not even for a second." Richie promised, and when a stagehand was ushering them forward, Richie led him while one arm remained snug around his waist. Eddie was pulled closely to his side, the blinding lights keeping him once again from viewing the audience.  
  
"Richard Tozier and Edward Kaspbrak," Caesar announced with a smile, that made Eddie dizzy, once he'd turned to look at him. The man chuckled when Richie offered his free hand. But he still shook it.  
  
"Can't keep your hands off of each other, huh?" Caesar joked, and Richie smiled, knowing all too well how to play the game.  
  
"Nope, but would you let him go? Look how damn cute he is." He teased, and the audience laughed. Eddie forced a quick smile, to push down his discomfort.  
  
He sat beside Richie on the couch, Richie’s arm still tight around his waist, his own trembling fingers resting in his lap.  
  
“So how are you both doing since the games?”  
  
_Oh, you know. Night terrors. Occasionally waking up screaming or crying. Dreams about all of our dead friends_ , Eddie thought to himself.  
  
“We’re hanging in there!” Richie laughed as he replied, he and Eddie meeting gazes for only a moment before they both looked back to Caesar. “Just happy to be getting by together.”  
  
“That’s good, that’s, uh... kind of a tricky thing. The ‘together’ thing. The Capitol was really moved by what you both did in the arena.” Caesar said, watching them both thoughtfully.  
  
Eddie bit his tongue. He couldn’t have cared less about how the Capitol had viewed him trying to save both of their lives.  
  
“It’s.. it’s love, you know..?” Richie said, his voice suddenly soft, and Eddie looked back up at him again in surprise.  
  
“I’ve never felt a pull like this to anyone else. Eds is... my soulmate.” He said fondly, “There just wasn’t any life for me outside of the arena without him.”  
  
Eddie could feel his heart beat hard in his chest, and he couldn’t figure out if Richie meant those words, or if he was just playing it up for the cameras. But when the other glanced down at him, a crooked grin on his face, neither of them could stop themselves from leaning in for a kiss.  
  
Eddie became aware of the audience again when they let out a chorus of ‘aww’s. His face warmed in embarrassment, although Richie never paid anyone else any mind, brushing Eddie’s hair behind his ear before he looked back at Caesar.  
  
The host was watching them with a fond smile.  
  
“That really is beautiful. Happy for you both. But! It seems to me like romance wasn’t the entire focus. Now, in the arena, you two did make some heavy relationships with other tributes as well — let’s take a look, shall we?” He asked the audience, who broke into applause, before the large and colourful screen behind them began to play footage from the games.  
  
When Eddie saw Stan’s face, he grasped at the hem of his shirt so tightly his knuckles turned white. Richie’s hand was over his own in a flash, and he laced their fingers together, and said something quietly that Eddie thought may have been “ _it’s okay_ ”.  
  
On the screen, Stan saved him from Bill. High up in the tree, Stan had held him, comforting him from how scared he had been. He showed him how to move from branch to branch, saving his life. Then, as the clip faded into another, he and Mike sat by the fire, Stan sleeping beside them.  
  
“ _No one should have to make it through this alone_ ,” Mike was saying. “ _When you care about someone this much... you stop thinking about yourself_.”  
  
The camera cut to he and Stan, crying and apologizing in the forest, after Betty Ripsom’s body had been taken away. Sharing an embrace. Eddie looked away from the screen, feeling his chest constrict painfully. He tried to block out the sound of the three of them giggling and laughing as they played in the water in another scene. It ran straight into the sound of the dogs, snarling as Eddie fought back to protect his friends.  
  
“ _Is that what you want?_ ” Mike’s voice, soft but so stern, played on screen. “ _To leave these games knowing you'd done harm when you could have stayed out of the way?_ ”  
  
“ _No_ ,” his own voice replied, sounding wrong to his ears, like it were someone else talking to his deceased friend, “ _I want to protect you. All of you._ "  
  
“ _We keep each other safe. Okay?_ ” Mike had said.  
  
" _Safety in numbers_ ," Richie’s voice had chimed in, in agreement, " _we're better together_.”  
  
He didn’t notice how tightly he was squeezing Richie’s hand. Richie didn’t say anything else aloud, but his own free hand was rubbing Eddie’s back gently.  
  
“ _What about you then, Stan?_ ” His own voice on the screen brought Eddie’s attention back up, to see another scene of them all around a fire. This time, Richie was there. He could almost feel the love and warmth that had radiated between them all that night.  
  
“ _Airplanes_ ,” Stan was saying, in reply to what he would have chosen to make, were he able. “ _It’s just... I've wondered what it would be like. Flying_.”  
  
“ _That’s not stupid._ ” Richie replied. Eddie felt tears burn in his eyes, and it only became worse when the clip cut directly into the attack. To Mike being killed on screen. Eddie felt his entire body begin to tremble, and Richie looked at him quickly, panic in his already upset expression.  
  
“Richie, I can’t.” He whispered, tears already spilling down his cheeks. He caught a glimpse on screen of Bill, of holding his hand, and he knew that Stan would be next-  
  
“Turn it off,” Richie suddenly said aloud to Caesar, who looked at him, startled. But Eddie couldn’t be here.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he managed to say, prying himself from Richie’s grasp, and quickly exiting the stage. He ripped off the mic as he went, letting it fall to the ground.  
  
“Eddie-“ Beverly tried to grab him, but he pulled himself from her touch as well.  
  
He didn’t stop or slow down until he was completely alone, inside of a storage closet, and he quietly sobbed into his hands.

 

* * *

  
  
**E** ddie had gone straight to his room after they had gotten back, refusing to talk to anyone else or eat that night. Instead he sat on the floor by the door, knees pulled to his chest and tears staining his cheeks, listening to everyone around the table as they spoke quietly to one another.  
  
“Richie, you’re the only one he even listens to anymore.” Bev was saying.  
  
“So, what, Bev, I’m supposed to do what?!” Richie asked, “Tell him what to do? How does that work out when you do it?”  
  
“Maybe it won’t work. But Eddie acting out on his impulses.... all of these emotions, running his mouth, this is going to get him in a lot of trouble.” She argued her point, worry in her voice. But Richie was stubborn and unwavering.  
  
“And I’ll be right by his side if it does.” He told her.  
  
While Eddie was relieved to know Richie had his back, he was terrified for the days to come. The Victory Tour meant returning home. And emotions would be even higher there.


	2. got so much to lose, got so much to prove (god, don’t let me lose my mind)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to @imrichie for being so supportive of this fic always!

**E** ddie woke up with a start, only to find himself in the dark, in Richie’s arms. Warm, safe, quiet.

“You okay?” Richie’s voice was rough with sleep, and Eddie glanced up at him. He briefly admired the wild, messy curls that fell far down and tickled his face when Richie leaned over him, his own hand coming up to touch the other’s cheek gently. He felt Richie stiffen at the gentle touch; saw the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed.

“I’m okay.” He whispered softly to him, and he had hardly finished speaking before their lips met.

The way they kissed now was different from the arena. So was the way they looked at one another.

The first nights of the tour they’d shared plenty of kisses. For the most part they had been brief, gestures to remind each other that the other wasn’t alone. Then it was something else. It was soft, slow kisses, followed by long moments of shared eye contact. Lingering touches. Then it was.. much heavier touches. Something Eddie hadn’t realized how starved he was to have.

Every touch now felt as though it set his skin on fire, and when Richie gripped onto him, his hands were so much more sure. Confident. Eddie was desperate for it.

He groaned approvingly against Richie’s mouth, feeling the way the other’s body reacted to the sound against his own when Richie pulled him closer by the hip, a hand curving down to experimentally grab his ass. Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat. Richie quickly removed his hand.

“I-.. was that..?” He asked, and they both panted softly as they eyed one another, the atmosphere between them having shifted. “Was that okay?”

Eddie nodded eagerly, wanting Richie to know he could touch him.

“Please,” he breathed, before Richie’s lips once again collided with his own, the hand returning to his backside. Grabbing, squeezing, and Eddie couldn’t help it when his hips ground upward, holding onto Richie’s shoulder to steady himself.

Richie maneuvered to hover completely over Eddie, sitting up between his legs, and sliding his hands down over his skin. His hands roamed far enough until his fingers could wrap around and hold onto the undersides of his thighs, pulling Eddie toward him until their hips were flush together. Eddie’s heart was racing. They’d never been this close or intimate before, and he was beyond terrified.

Richie must have noticed. His own eyes were wide then, as if he was only just realising what they were doing.

“Hey, hey.” He murmured softly, moving to crawl back over Eddie. “It’s okay. It’s new. We’re not doing anything.” He planted soft kisses along his jaw, and Eddie felt himself tremble with both nerves and disappointment. The heat that Richie gave him was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, and he wanted more of it.

“We’re not ready,” Richie said softly, suddenly, as if he had read his mind, and Eddie stopped to stare at him. Because in that moment, with the way Richie looked at him, he felt that what he really meant was that _he_ wasn’t ready. And it felt like a bit of a slap in the face after what they had been through. Of anyone, he never expected Richie to be the one to underestimate him. To treat him as though he were incapable of doing things that everyone else did.

“Richie, I want this.” Eddie argued quietly. He could see surprise in Richie’s expression, as well as a deep red blush that spread all the way to the tips of his ears. His hands slid down Eddie’s sides again, hesitating at his hips.

“We can’t.” Richie breathed finally. “Not tonight.”

Richie leaned in for another kiss, and Eddie placed a hand on his chest to stop him, ducking his head under his arm to roll out from underneath him.

“Eds,” Richie protested, clearly distraught.

“Please stop calling me that. I’m going back to sleep.” He whispered, forcing himself to close his eyes, because he didn’t want to have to see the hurt expression he was sure the other wore. When Richie quieted and stilled behind him, he allowed himself to finally doze off again.

 

* * *

 

**M** eeting Richie’s parents was one of the most awkward experiences of his life. Wentworth Tozier was a lot like his son in the way he didn’t seem to have a filter. He was funny too, but almost in a controlled way. It wasn’t entirely comfortable to be around, like Richie’s humor was, and Eddie had to admit he was a little afraid of him.

Questions about Richie’s sexuality surfaced, and it only struck more fear into him to be reminded of his mother. Being gay, or bisexual in Richie’s case, was more commonplace now. But it didn’t mean everyone was accepting. Or educated about it.

And Richie’s father seemed to have this idea about masculinity that he could tell he’d been pushing on his son his entire life.

“I mean the gay thing is fine and all, but I’m just glad you’re not... well, you know. The girl.” Richie’s father had so ignorantly stated to his son.

“Dad!”

“Went!”

Both Richie and his mother reacted to him, as Went threw up his hands with a questioning ‘what?’. Eddie’s cheeks burned in embarrassment as he tried not to take offense to the comment. No one was the ‘girl’. Maggie turned to face him in exasperation.

“Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t ‘get’ all of... this um... stuff, you know?” She gestured with her hands, before gently taking Eddie’s in her own. “I’m just so happy Richie found someone that makes _him_ happy.”

Eddie was sure his smile was forced looking, but he was on edge. He’d never even been good with his own mother, let alone anyone else’s overly-opinionated parents, so his resolve was simply to be polite.

“I understand. It’s been really nice meeting both of you.” He assured Maggie, who smiled almost vacantly back.

Richie was humiliated when they got back to the train.

“They’re not homophobic.” He promised Eddie, who didn’t have any room for judgement, because he knew how his mother would be when they arrived. “I talked to my dad about it- about the ‘girl’ thing-“

“Richie, it’s fine.” Eddie promised. In actuality he’d already buried it, along with the echoes of those calling him ‘delicate’, in his mind. He didn’t think he’d ever be free of those stereotypes. Didn’t matter how many games he won. Richie’s shoulder’s relaxed. But he couldn’t stop fidgeting.

“They really liked you.” He said quietly. “Said you were really nice. Brave.”

And while Eddie appreciated that, he didn’t feel brave right now. He felt sick. And scared out of his mind. And the rift between he and Richie was only growing. He tried to sleep it off.

 

* * *

 

**I** t didn’t work, and it only worsened by the time he stood on the stage in front of District Six. Every fiber of his being was screaming at Eddie that he couldn’t face these people. Somewhere in this crowd were Stan’s parents. And Eddie wasn’t able to protect their son, and now here he was, alive and _celebrating_. Giving speeches like some sort of hero.

It was disgusting.

Richie was currently reading from some notecards that Beverly had given them. Eddie peered over the cards he held as well, fingers trembling as he tried to work up the nerves to jump in when it was time to. Going over and over the words in his mind until he could make them sound like his own. But when he noticed Richie was quiet, he glanced at him, only to find him staring back expectantly. Because it was already his turn.

“Th-thank you for having us,” he spoke hurriedly, eyes darting back out over the crowd, before dropping to the cards again. “Um. First I want to quickly say, Marcia Fadden and... and...” his breath was suddenly gone, throat tight. “Stanley Uris..” his voice faltered. He swallowed, eyes skimming the cards again, before he shook his head. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t recite these silly notecards.

Something about it felt wrong. Plain and simple, these _weren’t_ his own words, and he wouldn’t sit here and pretend Stan wasn’t one of the best friends he’d ever had in this world.

“No, I... I didn’t know Marcia.” He spoke more closely into the microphone, “And I’m sure she was a really great person, and I’m sorry.” He heard surprised murmurs in the crowd at his change in behavior. At his show of _remorse_ rather than words of celebration. Richie looked confused, leaning closer to peek at his notecards. Eddie gave them to him, because he had no use for them.

“I’m sorry to her parents, and... and her friends,” he breathed shakily, trying to force his nervousness aside, “but Stan was.. he was one of my _best_ friends.” He swallowed, and tried to ignore the way his voice cracked at the end. There was a lot of emotion he wasn’t able to force down. “I’m so, so sorry for what happened to him. What he felt like he had to do. I really cared about him.”

“Eddie, this isn’t on the cards.” Richie whispered, and Eddie shook his head, because no- it wasn’t, he knew it wasn’t.

“It’s just something I have to say,” it was quiet, meant for Richie’s ears, Eddie’s hand placed gently over the mic to cover it. Richie studied him, before he nodded in understanding.

Eddie took a shaky breath, continuing his speech. A speech about how much Stan had meant to him. How much he could have offered the world. How much better he deserved. And while it didn’t bring Stan back, or fill the hole in his heart, to see how much it touched the people of District Six was all Eddie could have asked for.

The tears and applause from the residents filled him with more warmth and hope that this hadn’t been just some competition lost to them. Eddie was in tears himself when he left the stage.

“What the fuck, Richie!” Beverly shouted as soon as both boys re-entered the train.

“Me?! I’m.. sorry?” Richie said in confusion.

“You should be. You were supposed to keep that from happening.” She snapped.

“Wait, keep what from happening?” Eddie asked as he wiped at his eyes, a bit peeved he was continuously being left out of conversations regarding himself.

“Eddie, you can’t say all that about Stan. You’re supposed to be showing the Districts that you two won. That you’re together, and in love, and happy-“

“Beverly, I love Richie, but we’re not happy.” Eddie clenched his fists at his sides, unable to believe that Beverly of all people would want this. “People died. I’m not going to stand in front of Stan’s parents and-“

“Don’t you _get it_?!” Beverly asked, appearing almost panicked. “You two are on THIN ice right now. I’m trying to protect you!” She cried. Eddie didn’t understand. And he didn’t really want to.

“What are they going to do? Kill me..? Bet the Capitol would love that.” He said, obviously getting a little too big for his breeches, so to speak. Maybe he overestimated his importance. Or maybe, by making his _own_ speeches, Eddie was making friends — not enemies. If everyone loved him, then what would the President do?

“You’re getting mixed up in things you do not understand, Eddie.” Beverly told him, her tone warning.

But training was over. Eddie didn’t have to answer to anyone anymore.

He was silent all the way to District Seven, where he planned to remind everyone just how much he respected Bill Denbrough for giving his life for Georgie’s. He tried to ignore the disapproving glances from Beverly, and the apologetic ones from Richie, too.

 

* * *

 

District Seven was just as thankful to hear Eddie’s honest words. To hear him talk about Bill, not as a loser, but as someone who’d lost his life and opportunities-

“-just for the Capitol to have something to talk about. It’s not right,” he stated, to which he got applause, shouts of agreement. He glanced sideways at Richie. He looked nervous, scared almost. Eddie didn’t understand. Why, after all this time, after all they had done to them, did he want to keep playing along?

“And Georgie.” He said as he looked back out over the crowd, as if to try and find him. “Georgie Denbrough, if you’re listening, your brother would have wanted-“ Eddie didn’t even notice at first when his microphone cut out, but then he looked confused.

He glanced to the side in time to see Beverly, arms crossed, staring at him.

“Thank you, District Seven.” Richie said, the humor having left his tone. He took Eddie by the arm, turning him to leave, and Eddie instead went to grab the working microphone on Richie’s side of the stage.

“Wait, Georgie-“ he called out, resulting in Richie grabbing him around the waist, “everything Bill did was for you! And-“ he was promptly cut off with a frustrated growl when Richie lifted him off of the ground, and carried him back inside.

“Richie!” Eddie complained, “I still had something to say!” He shouted, before remembering he wasn’t the only enemy here, and turning to Beverly once Richie set him down. “What happened to my mic out there?”

“I turned it off. That stuff you said about the Capitol? Eddie that was reckless.” Beverly told him, before sighing as her anger dissolved into worry. Defeated worry. “Please, _please_ , stay on script, or we can’t let you speak at all.”

“But doesn’t everyone know this stuff..? And how unfair it is?” Eddie asked, not understanding while he looked between she and Richie desperately. “This is bullshit. You both can’t keep controlling-“

“Eddie- you’re right, but you shouldn’t say it.” Beverly confirmed, her expression still soft, eyebrows knit. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you. They can’t kill you, but that doesn’t make you — or Richie — untouchable. Okay?”

Eddie didn’t like the implied threat, especially with Richie’s name attached. Things were tense between them, but it didn’t affect how protective Eddie was over him.

“Okay.” He gave in quietly.

“Great.” Beverly smiled, even though she still looked entirely too tired, “Next stop, District Eight.”

And that was enough to strike _actual_ fear into Eddie’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!! im @imeddie on tumblr if you wanna find me there!


	3. trying hard to speak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks @imrichie <3 and @reddies-spaghetti for proofreading this!!

**I** f Eddie had thought meeting Richie’s parents was difficult, he’d severely underestimated the definition of bad impressions.  
  
From the moment they walked into his own house, his mother was _weeping_. Her heavy, outraged footsteps betrayed her emotion as she paced back, and forth, Eddie’s anxiety beginning to rise.  
  
“You’re not _gay_!” She cried out, “Edward Kaspbrak you are not gay!”  
  
“Ma... I’m gay.” Eddie said, but his voice was quiet, resigned. His entire body felt tense.  
  
“Do you know what people are saying about us Eddie? What the other mothers have been telling me?” Sonia practically wailed, her hands flying to her face, to rest on her cheeks in worry. “Greta- you had a crush on Greta, dear, why couldn’t you have- oh, she was such a nice girl.” She continued with a sigh. Eddie couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  
  
“Greta tried to kill me, ma.” He reminded her.  
  
“Well things were hard in that arena, Eddie,” his mother replied, and Eddie felt anger boiling up inside of himself.  
  
“I know. I was there.” He said, as calmly as he could manage.  
  
“Don’t take that tone with me,” she said, stopping her pacing only in order to point at him.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Richie’s mouth drop open at that, and Eddie quickly glanced at him with concern. Richie looked back at Eddie, seemed to catch his own expression, and stopped himself. He appeared to understand then that this wasn’t his battle. It was Eddie’s.  
  
Eddie was just grateful and proud of him for managing not to make any comment at all.  
  
“So how long?” Sonia interrupted their eye contact, bringing both of their attentions back up to her. “How long do you have to pretend, Eddie?”  
  
“Pretend what?” Eddie asked, and when his mother motioned between them he scowled, before informing her, “I’m not pretending.”  
  
She paused, for what felt like a long time.  
  
“But you’re not gay.”  
  
Eddie could have torn his hair out. She didn’t get it because she didn’t _want_ to get it.  
  
“Okay, well, we’re gonna go, ma. We don’t have a lot of time.” He got up, Richie scrambling to follow suit.  
  
“Was nice meeting you, missus K,” Richie said in his most polite voice, but she didn’t even look at him. She was still staring at Eddie.  
  
“But, Eddie, when will you be back?”  
  
“Look, ma..” Eddie started, his tone gentle. If he wasn’t careful this would only escalate. “You really should... pack up your things. Then, when I come back in a few days, I’ll help you move— because you’re going to live in the house up on the court. Okay?”  
  
Victor’s Court was a small circle of big, extravagant houses where winners and their families lived after the games. Naturally, his mother would be moving into the home assigned to them, and then she wouldn’t have to worry about money ever again. And Eddie wouldn’t have to worry about her.  
  
“You mean ‘we’, Eddie bear.” Sonia said with a forced chuckle. “You’ll pack your things too so we can go together.”  
  
“No, ma. I’ll let you have it.” Eddie said slowly, “I have other things I want to do.”  
  
“I don’t understand.” Sonia said, glancing sideways at Richie, who had abruptly turned away from them to make like he wasn’t eavesdropping. But Eddie caught the exchange and he reached over to take Richie’s arm, and bring him back into the conversation.  
  
“Ma, whether you like it or not, I want to be with Richie. And I’m going to figure out a way to stay with him.” Eddie explained to her. But he nearly stuttered over his words in remembering that he hadn’t exactly talked that part over with Richie.  
  
When he looked at him to see his immediate reaction to the new information, he found that Richie was already staring back at him, a goofy sort of grin spreading on his face. He slowly smiled back.  
  
“Oh.. oh, no, Eddie-“ Sonia shook her head, grabbing onto Eddie, and bringing his gaze back to her again, “you can’t do this to me. You wouldn’t really do this to me? I mean - I can’t live in that big house alone. That’s crazy, Eddie.”  
  
“You’ll be fine, ma.” Eddie promised her. “You’ll have everything you could ever need there.”  
  
“Oh, I can’t, Eddie, I-“  
  
“A few days,” Eddie replied, pulling his arm out of her grip gently but firmly, and taking Richie’s hand. He couldn’t let her talk him out of this. “Bye, ma.”  
  
He turned so they could leave, and his mother started to follow after them in shock.  
  
“Edward!” She cried, “Dear, are you trying to give me a heart attack? Because my heart is broken, Eddie, I think I’m going to-“  
  
“Mama,” Eddie said, gently taking her hand in his free one, “it’s going to be fine. _You_ will be fine. I love you, but I’m doing this.” He leaned to kiss her cheek, before smiling at Richie, and hurrying out alongside him and into the snow of District 8.  
  
If his mother said anything else after that he didn’t hear it. He was immediately hit with a rush of pure adrenaline for having even spoken to her that way.  
  
“Holy shit,” he breathed once they had put distance between themselves and the house, a trail of fresh footprints leading up through the snow that crunched beneath their feet. “I can’t believe I said all that to my mom. Am I insane?” He was smiling so wide his cheeks ached.  
  
“No, it’s not insanity.” Richie hummed in reply, and Eddie glanced at him questioningly, to find an equally crazed grin on the other’s face. “It’s just that you, Edward Kaspbrak, are absolutely whipped for me.” He concluded.  
  
Eddie stared at him for a beat, but he couldn’t contain his laughter. He doubled over in giggles, nearly slipping on the icy ground, and then Richie was snorting into laughter as well. The two of them looking like a couple of idiots trying to prop each other up while in absolute stitches.  
  
And when finally the laughter died down they studied one another, Eddie momentarily distracted by their breath in the cold air, and Richie reaching down to brush a misplaced hair off of Eddie’s face.  
  
“I’m sorry about before,” Richie spoke quietly, and Eddie shook his head.  
  
“No, you were right. It wasn’t the time. And the first time we do anything- any of that stuff- it should be perfect. For both of us,” he felt like the words left him so quickly, and Richie was grinning again, his crooked smile giving Eddie butterflies.  
  
“It will be,” Richie murmured. He pulled Eddie closer by the hip, and leaning down to press one, two, three quick kisses to Eddie’s lips. “Wait.. did you say I’m right?”  
  
“No. Shut up.” Eddie couldn’t help giggling against his mouth, tugging on Richie’s hood to pull him in close and hold him there in order to give him a proper kiss.  
  
“Would you two get your asses back to the train?” Bev called, and both boys jumped to attention, again almost losing their footing in the ice as they began to laugh all over again. Bev only rolled her eyes, batting a hand uselessly in their direction before walking toward the deck.  
  
“Continue this later?” Richie asked, waggling his eyebrows at Eddie, and Eddie let out another snort as he punched him in the arm.  
  
“Later,” he agreed, before he turned then to hurry back toward where Beverly stood, arms crossed tightly to hold herself against the cold air.

 

* * *

 

 **E** ddie was relieved to have the tension lifted from between them. He and Richie were all smiles tonight when they passed each other on the train cars. Between brushing their teeth in the bathroom, and changing their clothes, Richie kept reaching out to gently graze his fingertips over Eddie’s skin.  
  
And the moment Eddie’s back hit the bed, Richie was climbing on after him, bringing their lips together in an impatient attempt to carry out the promise of ‘later’.  
  
Richie’s hands roamed almost immediately, pushing Eddie’s shirt up, and Eddie broke the kiss with a gasp.  
  
“Your hands are fucking _freezing_ .” He brought one of his own hands up to grip onto Richie’s shoulder, while the other buried itself into his dark curly hair. Richie’s lips latched onto his neck instead, leaving kisses, biting, sucking. Eddie tossed his head back, at first. But then he began to pull at Richie’s hair as the feeling of heat rushed straight to his lower abdomen, trying to stop him before it got to be too much too quickly.  
  
But when Richie groaned in response there was no going back.  
  
The shirt Eddie had just changed into was being pulled over his head, and he was desperately trying to get Richie’s off, too, but Richie couldn’t stop kissing him. He felt his hand slide down his stomach, fingertips brushing his waistband.  
  
“Is this okay?” Richie breathed against his mouth, and Eddie nodded.  
  
“Please, Richie,” he replied, and Richie didn’t hesitate when he reached past his waistband. Eddie gasped at the large hand that wrapped around him, that heavy, heated feeling rushing to his face and his groin. With one stroke of his hand, Eddie was groaning loudly, and arching up off of the bed.  
  
Suddenly the hand was gone, and so was the feeling of the other above him. When he opened his eyes to find out why, Richie was sitting up and staring at him.  
  
“Holy shit,” Richie muttered, his face a bright shade of red. The blush reached his ears and the back of his neck.  
  
“What?” Eddie asked in confusion, propping himself up on his elbows, and trying to figure out if he had done or said something wrong. “Richie?”  
  
“You- that-“ Richie breathed, lust in the gaze that swept over him, “that _sound_ , Eds... I did that to you.”  
  
And Eddie burst into breathless laughter, his gaze full of affection.  
  
“Well... can you come back down here..? So you can do it again?” He bit his lip, and Richie paused, before jolting onto action when he realised that he had put any distance between them at all.  
  
“Sorry, sorry,” he grinned as he moved over him again, and Eddie pressed a kiss to his lips, heart beating hard in his chest because Richie was so sweet. When the kisses moved back to his jaw he hummed happily.  
  
“Touch me,” He reminded him, and Richie nipped at his skin.  
  
“Impatient,” Richie teased him, but his hand made its way back to Eddie’s shorts. Eddie tried to keep his moans quieter this time when Richie’s hand wrapped around him, for the sake of keeping the other from startling again like that, but they were both caught off guard by the sound of thumping on the wall behind them.  
  
“Can you two not do this _on the train_?!” Beverly’s voice sounded from the other end of the wall, and Eddie stared in shock at the headboard, covered his mouth, and bringing his gaze back to where Richie watched him with wide, magnified eyes.  
  
“Sorry Bev,” Eddie practically squeaked in reply, and Richie very quickly dropped his head, and buried his face against Eddie’s neck. Eddie could feel him laughing again, and he fought off a grin, huffing. “Shut the fuck up,” he whispered fondly.

 

* * *

  
  
**T** he next stop was more or less... uneventful. Eddie stayed on script, as he was told to do. But it didn’t feel right. The weeping families on either side of the podium twisted his heart in a way that killed him. And even worse he couldn’t do anything about it.  
  
The heartache he felt would never bring back the others that had been killed in the arena.  
  
“You know, spaghetti... it’s not just you.” Richie’s voice brought him back from his own thoughts, and Eddie looked up from where he sat on the couch, positioned in front of one of the large train windows. Outside trees flew by, but beyond them you could make out a beautiful lake. Even further in the distance, farmland. Mike’s district.  
  
“Not just me?” Eddie repeated curiously.  
  
“Who thinks it isn’t fair.”  
  
“You’re awfully quiet about it.” He commented, softly, and he wasn’t trying to be accusatory, so he smiled to soften his words. “Just about the only thing you’re quiet about.” He tacked on to let him know he was only joking.  
  
Richie smiled, too, but he appeared to perhaps be off-put by the comment.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Eddie said quickly.  
  
Richie came over, then, to sit beside him on the couch. He opened his arms to Eddie, and Eddie crawled right into them without a second thought.  
  
“The truth is that I’m scared, Eds.” Richie admitted softly, while Eddie made himself comfortable on his lap. “And you’re so brave, so I get it-“  
  
“Brave? Me?” Eddie wondered.  
  
“You are. Think about it.” He told him softly. “You stuck up to missus K, and that woman is more terrifying than anything I saw in the arena.”  
  
Eddie couldn’t contain the laugh that bubbled up from such an absurd joke.  
  
“That wasn’t brave.”  
  
“It was really brave, Eds. You saved me too. In the arena.” He murmured against Eddie’s hair, nuzzling his face in until Eddie could barely make out what he was saying, “Saved us both. And I don’t want them to hurt you, you know? If you become a problem to them. Like Bev said.”  
  
“They won’t do anything to me, Richie. We’re victors.” Eddie reminded him, and Richie stilled. He was quiet for a long time, so long that Eddie began to feel worried, the silent contemplation feeling uncharacteristic. “Rich?”  
  
“Promise me you won’t provoke them, Eddie? Please promise me.” Richie uttered, his voice so small it was almost unrecognizable to Eddie. Eddie tried to look back toward him, frowning.  
  
“Okay. I promise.” Eddie said, and Richie pulled back, his expression relieved. He pressed a few kisses to Eddie’s lips, and Eddie returned every one.  
  
“You look unbelievable in this lighting, by the way.” Richie said suddenly against his lips, his tone back to something more familiar, more flirty. His hands slid down to rest on Eddie’s hips, and Eddie snorted as he leaned back to stare at him. “No, I mean it.” Richie insisted. “You look beautiful with the sun setting like this.”  
  
“You’re embarrassing.” Eddie said quietly, but his heart began to beat more rapidly.  
  
“But you like me.” Richie smirked, fingertips pressing into his lower back, and Eddie reacted with an uncharacteristic squeak. A blush rose to his cheeks, and he giggled while he pushed his hands away.  
  
“Knock it off. I really like you.”  
  
“I really like you too, Eddie my love.” Richie was smiling much more softly at him now, with that familiar dazed expression that Eddie was growing so attached to.  
  
And maybe the whole situation _was_ backwards, but he really would have liked to do the whole dating thing with Richie. To act like normal teenagers with Richie.  
  
Even if normal didn’t feel right anymore.

 

* * *

  
  
**I** t was District Ten that was the last stop Eddie was permitted to take.  
  
The first thing he noticed that appeared to be strange were the peacekeepers that lined the front of the stage. Two more stood _on_ the stage, as well, at either side of he and Richie. He hadn’t noticed anything like that in any of the previous stops.  
  
He had mentioned it in a rushed mumble to Richie - but the response was more or less a shrug.  
  
“Remember the promise.” Richie had said quietly, looking so tense, it was almost like he was a different person.  
  
And when Eddie’s gaze moved to the posters of the tributes, seeing Mike’s face gave him a feeling of dread similar to District Six all over again. His hands trembled as he struggled to flip through his notecards during his speech.  
  
“I’d also like to thank the tributes that competed. Their sacrifice ensures a brighter future for-“  
  
A loud wail brought Eddie’s gaze up from the cards, and his eyes landed on where Mike’s family stood, his mother with her face in her hands, unable to even look his way. Eddie felt a deep ache of sadness, emptiness inside of himself. And guilt maybe. Beside him, a peacekeeper cleared his throat. When he dared himself to look, he realised it was a warning, and he dropped his eyes back to the cards.  
  
“A brighter future for the country, and for the great people of every District. Thank you.” Eddie wrapped up quickly, his heart rate picking up. Richie reached out to take his hand. Eddie took it with what felt like too tight of a grip, trying to ground himself, while the sound of Mike’s mother crying bounced around between his ears.  
  
There was no applause for them.  
  
“Are you okay?” Richie whispered, and Eddie shook his head. The peacekeepers were there to keep everyone quiet. To bury this and to treat everything as if the death that took place in that arena was justified for the greater good. He was supposed to be quiet. He had told Bev, and he had promised Richie.  
  
“Time’s up.” The peacekeeper beside him spoke, and Eddie watched the people of District Ten turn their backs on he and Richie. He watched Mike’s family comfort a woman so distraught, so hurt by the loss of her son, and something inside of him broke.  
  
“I’m sorry.” He told Richie, because he couldn’t in good conscience move on. He couldn’t go without telling the family what Mike had meant to the both of them.  
  
“Eddie, _please don’t._ You promised.”  
  
“I’m sorry.” Eddie repeated as tears rushed to his eyes, and he released Richie’s hand.  
  
“Mike Hanlon was family.” Relief hit him the moment he uttered the words into the microphone, the moment the sobbing stopped. “And he deserved better- he deserved so much more than to die in the arena. He sacrificed himself for us, for Stan, and he didn’t have to. He was _family._.. no one can take that away.” His voice was unsteady, and beside him Richie begged him to stop.  
  
“Eds- that’s enough, _please_. Let’s go back on the train now.” But his voice was drowned out quickly by the people of District Ten.  
  
Eddie had expected the applause that followed, because what he spoke about was justice for Mike, and really, justice for all of the other children who had been killed in the games. But he genuinely hadn’t expected it when Richie was pulled away from him so harshly, and the butt of a peacekeeper’s gun knocked him out cold.

 

* * *

  
  
“ **E** dward.” An unfamiliar voice addressed him, and he shifted, trying to open his eyes. His head was pounding, and felt so heavy. “Edward Kaspbrak, you’ve been making a real mess of my games.”  
  
When finally he managed to peek, vision blurry, he felt as though he was on the train. Whichever car he was in, it was dark. A quick once over of the room and his gaze instantly met with the yellow-gold eyes of the dark figure seated on the couch across from him. The way those eyes pierced into him froze him to the spot, practically paralyzing him with fear, and a wild, horrifying laugh filled the car.

The figure leaned forward into the light, and Eddie recognized some of it’s features to be the President’s. But something wasn’t right. The face was different, distorted almost, it’s head seemingly enlarged. When it smiled, it’s teeth were sharpened into points. Why couldn’t Eddie move?  
  
“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” ‘President Wise’ spoke. “You couldn’t _stop_ talking before.”

Eddie’s entire body trembled. He didn’t know what to do, or what to say. He was terrified.  
  
“You’ve turned my games into a joke.” The president continued, standing, his limbs appearing elongated. “People will think we don’t need them anymore, at this rate.  
  
“These games keep order, provide discipline, _sacrifice_ for the greater good. You know what happens to a society without rules?” His voice began to lose it’s edge, become something else entirely, something of an almost cartoonish quality. “Chaos, dear Edward.” The laugh again. Eddie cringed.

“Why can’t I move?” He said finally, struggling to try and sit up.  
  
“When someone breaks the rules there are consequences.” The president said. “Consequences, consequences.” He repeated to himself under his breath. “You will be made an example of. And if you don’t stop, even then? Your precious Richie Tozier will be next.” He told him, before another loud laugh burst forth from his mouth, from lips that appeared much more red than before. Blood red came to mind. Eddie lost consciousness again, though this time, the reason why was unclear.

 

* * *

  
  
**T** his time Eddie awoke to the sound of Richie’s voice. He sounded hysterical, and it raised Eddie’s heart rate, and he reached out to try and find him blindly.  
  
“If he has to go I’m going with him! Fuck that, Beverly,” Richie practically shrieked.

“Go?” Eddie asked as his hand barely brushed against Richie’s pant leg.

Richie was focused on him, then, and was kneeling by his side immediately. “Eds? Are you okay?” He asked, his voice having taken on a much softer, gentler tone.

“What happened?” Was all that Eddie could seem to get out. Had any of that been real? Or had he dreamt President Wise in the train car?  
  
“Eddie,” Bev said, and when he looked at her, he could tell her eyes were swollen from crying. “I told you exactly what not to do.”  
  
“What happened?” Eddie repeated, this time with more urgency, and Richie appeared to be struggling with some emotions himself. Eddie couldn’t quite tell if he’d been crying, thanks to his glasses.  
  
“They’re taking us back to the Capitol for.... for your punishment.”  
  
“Which is?”  
  
“The punishment for defiance, and for rebellion.” Beverly cut in. Eddie met her gaze, and for a moment, he remembered Adrian.

 

* * *

  
  
“ **I** ‘m really scared, Rich.” Eddie kept his voice quiet, while they practically clung to each other where they’d been sat to wait. The room reminded Eddie of a doctor’s office; long corridors, all done in white, with fluorescent lighting overhead. The only difference was the bars on the doors and windows.  
  
“Me too.” Richie admitted, before hastily continuing, “But it’s going to be okay. You’ll be okay, Eddie.”  
  
“I won’t be able to speak anymore, Richie.” Eddie could feel another wave of tears approaching.  
  
“Hey, hey...” Richie frowned, rubbing his thumb over his waist soothingly. “Think about it this way. No more speeches.” He offered gently, and Eddie knew he was trying to lighten the mood, but it didn’t help.  
  
“Mm.” Eddie replied.  
  
Richie shook his head, before dropping it against Eddie’s shoulder.  
  
“We can find a way around it.”  
  
Something about it frightened him even more. If they couldn’t? If they couldn’t find a way around it? Would Richie grow tired and move on?  
  
“I don’t want to do this,” Eddie choked out a sob, and Richie’s arms tightened around him, his lips pressing to his skin.  
  
“I’ll be here for you the whole time Eds, I-“  
  
“Edward Kaspbrak,” a voice caught both of their attentions, and a nurse stood at the edge of the hallway, peering into the room. “Come with me now.”  
  
“Richie, I can’t- I can’t go, I don’t want to,” Eddie pleaded, holding onto the other much tighter, more desperately, wishing Richie could take him out of this place. “I want to leave.”  
  
“Eddie please,” Richie whispered, gently trying to help him to his feet. Eddie didn’t budge.

“If you don’t come quietly I’ll have security escort you.” The nurse said, her voice steady and cold.  
  
“Alright, lady, one second.” Richie snapped, and Eddie was startled by the tone of it, and the way his voice echoed of the narrow room’s walls. He focused on Richie, who cupped his face in his hands, searching his eyes with such purpose that Eddie placed a careful hand over the one holding his cheek. It seemed to snap him out of the speechless daze he was in.  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“It’s my fault.” Eddie replied. There was no reason for Richie to apologise, he had tried to help Eddie. Eddie broke his promise so the blame went solely to him.  
  
Eddie gently held onto Richie’s hand, to move it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the very center of his palm.  
  
“Marry me, Eds.”  
  
The words nearly knocked him backwards, his breath leaving him, and a troubled look crossing his features.  
  
“Why would you-“  
  
“We don’t have to right away. But I love you, Eddie, and it’s selfish, I... I want to hear you say yes out loud.” He told him honestly.  
  
Eddie looked for any sign that he was joking. But he’d never seen Richie so serious.  
  
“Yes,” he told him, more tears springing to his eyes, and Richie leaned down to bring their lips together in one quick movement. The whimper that escaped his lips told Eddie he was crying, too.  
  
“It’s time to go _now_.” The nurse reiterated.  
  
“Will you still be here? After?” Eddie pleaded with Richie softly.  
  
“Yes, Eddie.” Richie promised, kissing him several more times before he finally released him. “Always will be, my love.”  
  
Eddie began to follow the nurse, despite his body trembling so uncontrollably, before it occurred to him it really would be the last time his fiancé - or anyone else - would ever hear his voice.  
  
“I love you too, Richie!”


End file.
